Area 51
by Shynola
Summary: An idea I got from the Series 6 trailer. When the Doctor is captured by the American forces and taken to Area 51, how far will they go to get information from him? I suck at summaries, it's better on the inside, promise! Very, very mild T, almost K.
1. Chapter 1

**_(A/N - Okay, this is my first ever fic, so please be kind to it. I got the idea during one of my more inspirational moods after watching the Series 6 trailer for DW and decided to write it down before it slipped my mind. Please let me know how I did, I'd love to hear from you.)_**

**DISCLAIMER: Anything remotely Doctor Who-ish does not belong to me, it belongs to Mr Moffat and his BBC friends. Anything you recognise is not mine. Please don't sue me, I'm saving up for a World Challenge trip and I want to help some Peruvian orphans.**

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><p><strong>SUBJECT FILE<strong>

**SUBJECT 4273/07/73 B**

_Subject Name: The Doctor_

_Subject Species: Unknown - apparent humanoid_

_Origin of Subject: Unknown_

_Date arrived: 7th__ August, 1973_

_Action taken: Restrained, interrogation taking place. Occasional force needed._

_Dissection notes: Dissection not yet performed._

_Weapons: One small device (subject has named it a 'sonic screwdriver') - power is undetermined._

_Appearance: Apparent humanoid. Binary vascular system. Appears to speak many Earth languages, including English. Intelligence beyond human knowledge. Eccentric._

**THREAT STATUS: POTENTIAL THREAT TO HUMANITY.**

General Mark Johnson approached the warehouse and took off his cap as two soldiers opened the doors for him. A guard and a young female scientist - Dr Evans - holding a clipboard were waiting for him.

"Good morning, sir," Dr Evans saluted. "Would you like to see the subject now or go through the notes with me first?"

"You can talk and walk, can't you?" Johnson scowled. "I haven't got all day." He strode off in the direction of the prisoner and Dr Evans scuttled up behind him.

"He calls himself the Doctor," Evans explained. "We don't know what species he is yet, but he appears to be some sort of humanoid. He wouldn't tell us when we interrogated him. He has a binary vascular system - that means he has two hearts, sir - and he wasn't too sure which year it was. I had to assure him several times. Sometimes I think he's quite deluded, sir."

Johnson showed no signs of apprehension as they neared the prisoner - in fact, he looked rather bored. "Does he speak English?" he shot at Evans, looking the prisoner up and down.

"Of course I do!" the man said hotly. "Honestly, what a thing to say." He shook his head, looking at Johnson disapprovingly.

"You sound British," Johnson commented.

"You sound American," the prisoner countered. Johnson raised his eyebrows.

"I would remind you," Johnson said, "that as an extra-terrestrial being you are a guest here and you will show me some respect!"

The prisoner rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. I've defended this planet more times than you've had hot dinners - that's not an exaggeration - and half the time you lot don't even notice!" He allowed himself a small smile. "For a Level Five planet you lot are _very_ unobservant."

"Enough of this," Johnson said. "I'm not here to waste my time." He pulled up a chair and sat in front of the man, taking the clipboard from Dr Evans.

"It says here you're called the Doctor. That's a bit of an odd name, wouldn't you say?"

"Not really. Everyone calls me the Doctor. I don't really know why. I call me the Doctor too. Still don't know why." he seemed to realise he was rambling and shut his mouth quickly. "Sorry. Carry on."

"It says here that your species is unknown," Johnson said. "Where are you from?"

"Gallifrey," the Doctor said. "It used to sit about two hundred and fifty million light years away from Earth in the constellation of Kasterborous."

"I'm sorry, it _used_ to?" Dr Evans said. "Where is it now?" She thought she saw a flicker of emotion in the Doctor's eyes. He heaved a great sigh and turned his face away from them for the first time, as if he didn't want them to see how he was feeling. _But those eyes…_ Evans shivered. They were so young and yet so old at the same time. She realised she'd seen the same look in some of the soldiers she had treated after they had returned, some of them horrifically wounded, from Vietnam. It was like they had seen more than their soul could stand.

"Gone," said the Doctor quietly, and though she thought she saw his hand shaking ever so slightly, his voice was quite steady. "It was destroyed in the last Time War, along with all my people and the Daleks - or so I thought," he added bitterly.

"And what species are you?" Johnson asked, seeming not to care in the slightest that the Doctor's own planet had gone.

"Time Lord," the Doctor said. "Last of, I'm afraid."

"But you look human," Evans interjected. The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You look Time Lord," he countered. Dr Evans blushed and looked away.

"And what is your purpose here on Earth?" Johnson pressed.

"Oh, I'm just here with my friends. It's all right, they're humans. We're not here to cause any trouble." he laughed. "I'm probably lying - trouble seems to follow me wherever I go."

Johnson frowned. For a prisoner, he seemed very relaxed. Too relaxed, even.

"I see," he said in a clipped tone, and marked something down on the clipboard. He looked up. "You said you were travelling with your friends. Where are they?"

"Safe and sound. They won't go anywhere near me, I promise. I've taken them on a honeymoon, you see."

"I want to question them."

"What for?"

"To learn more about you and what kind of a threat you pose to humanity. I want to run tests to see if you've drugged them and I want to see if they really are human."

"Listen, they're my friends. If I were you I'd leave well alone." the Doctor's voice was light, but it carried the faintest trace of a threat. For a moment, the Oncoming Storm looked just as terrifying as the old legends said he did.

"Is that a threat?" Johnson asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "It might be."

Johnson stood up, kicking his chair aside, and picked up a switch which was connected to leads attached to the Doctor's chest. The man went pale, but stood his ground.

"Is that really necessary?" he asked, hoping he could talk his way out of this. A second later, Johnson flicked the switch and the Doctor lost control of his body as his muscles went into spasm, the electricity coursing through his body like wildfire. The pain was unbearable. It looked like he was having a seizure.

"Stop," Evans gasped. "Please, just stop."

Johnson flicked the switch and the electric current stopped. The Doctor hung forwards in his chair. The only thing that kept him from slipping onto the floor were the restraints. He ached all over.

"That'll teach you to disrespect me," Johnson spat, and stalked away.

Evans waited until he had gone, then approached the Doctor cautiously, lifting his head carefully.

"Are you all right?" she asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes, surprised when his skin felt cool to the touch. He looked so _human_. "Can I get you anything?"

The Doctor coughed and winced. Dr Evans didn't know if he was capable of talking yet or not.

"I'm going to get you some painkillers, okay?" she said, letting go of his head carefully. "I'll be right back."

The Doctor watched her go, trying to lift his head. For some reason it felt immensely heavy. Everything seemed to be fuzzy around the edges and he _ached_ - he hadn't ached like this for goodness knows how long - well, not since he'd regenerated…

Evans returned with a glass of fizzing water and lifted the Doctor's head again, bringing the glass up to his mouth. The Doctor turned away, suspicious.

"It's all right," Evans reassured him. "It's just something to take the pain away." She lifted the glass again and the Doctor drank steadily, breathing out as the liquid reached his stomach.

His brain was still fuzzy from his recent electrocution and he frowned, trying to remember what it was that he'd forgotten. Something very important.

He remembered very suddenly as his stomach heaved and he fought back a wave of nausea. His airways were closing up. He gasped for oxygen, but for some reason he couldn't get it into his lungs. Evans frowned in concern. What the hell was wrong with him?

The Doctor was still gasping for air as rashes appeared all over his skin. He was sweating and trembling, still fighting for oxygen. How in the name of sanity had he managed to get like this?

"_It's just a painkiller…"_

_Just a painkiller_.

Just a painkiller.

The Doctor realised with awful finality as he passed out from a lack of oxygen.

He'd taken aspirin.

**_(A/N - Thanks for reading! Let me know how I did in the reviews bit and tell me if you want me to continue. Apologies for any errors, I wrote this at 2 am - please let me know and I'll correct them. Reviews make my day. Just sayin'.)_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**(A/N - Big big thank you to everyone who has reviewed and signed up for the alerts! You are all fantastic people and it really made my day getting those emails! Without further ado, the next installment. Sorry it took a while!)**_

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><p>Dr Evans watched, stricken, as the Doctor struggled to breathe. She had no idea what the hell was going on inside his body, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with the aspirin she had just given him.<p>

Rashes started to appear all over his body as she turned and shouted for help, sending scientists and doctors running with a cart full of medicines.

"What's wrong with him?" one of the doctors asked, checking his pulse.

"I just gave him some aspirin," Evans said. "He was in pain; General Johnson shocked him…" She suddenly stopped and slapped herself around the head. "God! How could I have been so stupid?" She turned to the doctors. "Hand me that antihistamine thing. Right now."

One of the doctors passed it to her. "You'd better know what you're doing, Evans. This might kill him."

Dr Evans seized the device and stabbed straight into the Doctor's leg, deploying the plunger. She stood back, waiting for the medicine to work, pushing her hair back from her face.

"It's working," one of the doctors said, checking his pulse. "He's beginning to breathe again. Someone get the oxygen." he turned to his colleague. "How did you know what to do?" he asked incredulously.

"He went into anaphylactic shock," Evans explained. "My sister is allergic to peanuts. I've been taught to recognise the symptoms. He must be allergic to aspirin."

One of the scientists nodded. "What was that thing?" he asked, indicating the device in Evans' hand. It was long, thin plastic tube with a needle sticking out of the top. Evans turned it over in her hands.

"It's an Epi-Pen prototype," Evans explained. "I gave him an adrenaline boost to kick the shock." She grabbed a bowl as the Doctor opened his eyes, coughed a few times, shook the mask off his face and was violently sick. Evans disposed of the bowl and crouched beside him, freeing him from his restraints and holding him up again.

"Hello there," she said, smiling. "You gave us a nasty shock. How are you feeling?"

"Never felt worse," the Doctor said hoarsely. He glanced around with baleful eyes. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"No," Dr Evans laughed. "I gave you some aspirin. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were allergic to it."

"You're not the first," the Doctor said, smiling weakly. He still ached all over, and on top of that, his thigh was hurting from the Epi-Pen. He coughed again and winced. Evans noticed and frowned.

"I think we'd better take you to the medical bay and see what we can do," she said, and a moment later, one of her colleagues fetched a wheelchair. As the Doctor tried to stand, Evans made to help him, but he shook her off.

"I can stand up," he protested, pushing himself to his feet. He wobbled for a moment, then toppled over as his legs refused to support him.

"Ow," said the Doctor. "Ow, ow, ow. Why did you let me stand up?" Dr Evans opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her. "Never mind, you're only human." Evans helped him up and into the wheelchair, where he massaged his thigh, scowling at it. "Oh, as soon as I get out of here I'm going straight over to see Kaplan and improving that design. That _hurt_."

Dr Evans started pushing him down a corridor towards the medical bay, smiling to herself as the man in front of her rambled on.

"Who is this Kaplan you're going on?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, he's a scientist. He invented that thing you stabbed me with," the Doctor explained. A wave of pain crossed his face and he grimaced, clenching his teeth.

"Are you all right?" Evans asked.

"I'm fine," the Doctor said as Evans pushed him into the medical bay. It was very different to the rest of the base - the walls were whitewashed and clean, and there were windows. There was a row of neatly made beds, each with fresh sheets. Evans wheeled him over to a bed directly opposite her office and helped him up, noticing how quickly his legs buckled. She pulled several machines forwards and took the leads from the heart monitor, meaning to attach them to his chest. The Doctor paled when he saw the leads and wriggled away.

"I won't do anything," he promised.

"It's all right, they're just for the monitor," Evans explained, frowning when she saw the fear in the man's eyes. He relaxed and allowed her to attach various leads to the monitors, which started reading out his familiar double heartbeat.

The Doctor seemed to suddenly catch sight of himself and snorted, imagining what Amy and Rory would say if they saw him like this. He smiled, imagining his fiery ginger companion knocking Johnson clean off his feet. He wondered how he was going to get back to them.

"So," Dr Evans said, pulling up a chair beside him. "Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"I told you, I'm a Time Lord," the Doctor said.

"Yes, but that's it. How are you so clever? You don't look a day older than about twenty-eight."

"Nine hundred and seven, actually," the Doctor said, flashing her a smile. Evans went slack-jawed and stared at him.

"_Nine hundred and seven_?" she laughed. "You're having me on!"

"I'm not," the Doctor smiled. "Time Lords have this way of cheating death. It only works when you get shot, or something though, not for old age and stuff. Basically, every single cell in my body changes. New face, new body, new personality, new everything - except for the memories. I get to keep those."

Dr Evans still seemed to have trouble taking it all in. "It must be awful, being the last one left," she said, and mentally kicked herself when she saw the Doctor's face fall.

"It is," he said quietly. "My people used to be brilliant. But the Time War changed them - all of them. If I hadn't stopped it, they would have gone on fighting forever."

Dr Evans took his hand, suddenly feeling awful. _Stupid, stupid_, she told herself mentally, _if I hadn't mentioned it he wouldn't have to think about it._

"I'm so sorry," she said, squeezing his hand. It was a stupid thing to say really, but what else _could_ she say? It wasn't like she had any idea how he must be feeling.

"It's all right," the Doctor said. There was a long, awkward pause, during which the Doctor examined a loose thread in the sheets intensely, lost in his inner turmoil. He wanted to talk to Evans, to tell her how utterly alone he felt all the time, but he didn't have the words to say it. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Why couldn't he be more like Ten? All of the memories were there; the knowledge of how to express himself. He suppressed a shudder at the very thought. For some reason, this brain didn't deal with the sharing thing very well.

Dr Evans let go of his hand and he turned to her, smiling reassuringly so that she knew he was okay. He felt exhausted.

"You get some rest," she said, scraping back her chair and straightening his pillows. "I'll be right in my office if you need me, okay?" The Doctor nodded, feeling his eyelids grow heavy. Dr Evans smiled, squeezed his hand briefly, and left him to it.

He had almost dropped off when the doors to the ward flew open, slamming into the walls. The Doctor sat bolt upright, tried to grab his sonic screwdriver, then remembered where he was and paled as he saw General Johnson striding towards him, apoplectic with rage. Dr Evans came hurrying out of her office, throwing herself between Johnson and the Doctor.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Johnson demanded.

"I'm letting him rest up. He's still weak from the electrocution and he went into anaphylactic shock when I gave him painkillers. He needs to rest," Dr Evans said firmly. The Doctor smiled as he saw her drawing herself up to her full height, despite the fact that she was about half Johnson's size.

"What he _needs_," Johnson snarled, brushing her aside roughly and stalking up to the Doctor once more, "is to tell me what I want to know. Get moving, scumbag." He seized the Doctor, hauled him off the bed and cuffing his hands before he even had a chance to protest.

"Don't!" Evans cried, reaching out to stop him. Johnson ignored her and shoved the Doctor out into the corridor, yanking him off to the right. The Doctor stumbled and almost fell, but didn't allow Johnson the satisfaction. He wondered briefly where they were going - it was in completely the opposite direction to the room where he had been before.

They came to a door and Johnson seized the Doctor's arm, shoving him inside. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting an eerie glow. A wooden chair was in the centre of the room and a long chain ran down near one wall. The floor was slightly sloped towards the middle, where a drain was situated. It smelt faintly of damp.

Johnson cuffed the Doctor to the chair, then stood by the chain.

"Above you head," he said, "is a tank full of icy water. I'm going to ask you some questions. If you refuse to cooperate, I'll empty it on you. I'll repeat that until you cooperate or you die from the shock." A nasty, malicious smile played around his mouth. "Right then," he began. "Let's see how much you're going to tell me now."

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><p><em><strong>(AN - Right, I'm just going to go and hide from the angry pitchfork-wielding mob that will probably arrive at my front door after that... Please review, it makes me happy and I'll update sooner! I hope this chapter isn't too suckish, I've been trying to get it right so I hope it's okay.**_

**_Tomorrow I break up for Easter, but what with the bunch of impending GCSEs I have coming up you might not hear from me for a few days. I'll try to keep you all posted but please bear with me because I while I will be revising left, right and centre I'll also try to get some writing in. Forewarned is four-armed, as they say - if you'll pardon the pun. Thanks again guys.)_**


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N - I'm sure I don't need to tell any of you that this site has been having major issues lately so I'm really sorry for the delay! I actually had this chapter finished, proofread and ready to go on Saturday morning... Massive massive apologies for not having it up sooner but I had a really hectic Monday - had to leave at 7.30am for a funeral and then dash off to London for a concert, so I didn't get back till about midnight by which time I was exhausted. AND my toaster broke at the weekend! (Seriously, I put a bagel in there, expecting it to pop out a couple of minutes later all golden brown and delicious, and what do I get? A lump of flipping charcoal, that's what.)_**

**_Anyway, I won't leave it any longer than it's already been. Hoping everything is working out for everyone else :)_**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. If I did, I'd be getting paid for this. Which I'm not, by the way.**

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><p>"<em>Above your head," he said, "is a tank full of icy water. I'm going to ask you some questions. If you refuse to cooperate, I'll empty it on you. I'll repeat that until you cooperate or you die from the shock." A nasty, malicious smile played around his mouth. "Right then," he began. "Let's see how much you're going to tell me now."<em>

"There's no need for this," the Doctor protested.

"Shut up!" Johnson silenced him. "I don't want to hear another word from you. _Not one word_. Have you got that?" he snarled. The Doctor said nothing. Johnson strode over to him. "I said _have you got that?_"

"You said you didn't want to hear another word from me," the Doctor said, bewildered. Johnson punched him with a fist that seemed to be made from iron. The Doctor reeled, trying to roll with the punch so that he wouldn't break his neck, but the restraints made it almost impossible.

He quickly explored his teeth with his tongue, and though there was blood, all of his teeth seemed to be in their rightful places.

"I've told you everything you wanted to know," the Doctor said as Johnson grasped the chain again.

"Not quite everything. You haven't told me where your 'friends' are, have you? And how did you get here, anyway?"

"I told you, they're staying out of the way. There's no need for them to be involved. And you're not getting your hands on my TARDIS, either."

Without warning, Johnson emptied the tank above his head and the Doctor gasped in shock as the freezing water cascaded over him. He shivered, shaking his hair out of his eyes, and listened to the tank filling up again above his head.

"You see?" Johnson said, as the water trickled away down the drain. "It's not nice, is it? All you have to do is tell me what I want to know."

"No chance," the Doctor said furiously. He was more alert now, using the cold to try and wake his brain up. He'd been in tighter spots than this and he could work his way out, surely…

He lost his train of thought as Johnson emptied the tank again and clenched his teeth together to stop them from chattering. He shivered, shaking his hair out of his eyes again, and started to laugh.

"What's so bloody funny?" Johnson yelled, his face turning purple with rage.

"It's going to take more than a bit of cold water," the Doctor grinned, and laughed again as Johnson emptied the tank. It felt better when he was laughing. He didn't shiver so much and he needed Johnson to know that he wasn't going to give up that easily.

Five full tanks later, Johnson seemed to realise that the Doctor wasn't going to talk. He took off the handcuffs and allowed the man to stand up.

"We should do this again some time," the Doctor said, holding out his hand for Johnson to shake. "Although next time you give me a shower, you could at least do me the common decency of lending me some soap."

A second later, the iron fist connected with the side of his head again and the Doctor fell to the floor, his head slamming against the concrete. Lights flashed in front of him as he struggled to remain conscious and he heard Johnson's voice from far away, as if they were standing at either end of a very long tunnel.

Blackness was closing in. The single light bulb on the ceiling seemed to be getting further and further away as he sank down past the concrete, falling back into nothing.

Quite unexpectedly, warm hands pulled him back from unconsciousness and he blinked several times as the room tilted. He shut his eyes, feeling slightly sick. His head was throbbing uncomfortably.

"Are you all right?" said a soft voice, one he recognised but couldn't quite place. He thought hard and a wave of pain washed over him. He gritted his teeth, but couldn't prevent a groan from escaping. "Doctor, it's me. Open your eyes."

"Don't want to," he muttered. "Too bright."

"You need to," said the same voice, and he realised who it was. Dr Evans had a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Come on, Doctor, wake up."

He opened his eyes, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh light. Evans smiled with relief.

"Hello again," she said. "Are you all right?"

"This is the worst day I've had for some time," the Doctor said. Evans laughed and put an arm underneath his shoulders, helping him to sit up. The room tilted again and he took several deep breaths, steadying himself.

"You think you can stand up?" Evans asked, and he nodded. She helped him up, steadying him as he swayed. "All right?"

"Yep." he tried to walk forwards and stumbled, almost falling again.

"Careful," Evans said, steadying him again. "One step at a time, okay?"

He nodded. _Come on, one foot in front of the other_, he told himself, _it's not that difficult._ He took another deep breath and took a few steps forwards until he reached the door. Once he was outside in the corridor, he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes again. His head was still pounding.

"Do you think you can make it?" Evans asked.

"Not sure," he said, opening his eyes again. He took another step forward and his knees buckled. Evans caught him and pulled an arm around her shoulders, taking most of his weight.

"It's all right; take your time," she said. "One step at a time, yeah?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, he managed to reach the doors to the medical bay and fell onto the bed, utterly exhausted. He felt Evans staring at him and opened one eye. She was giving him a pitying gaze and he instantly regretted telling her so much before Johnson had escorted him away.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just need to sleep it off."

Evans nodded. "I'll just go and get you something dry to wear," she said, disappearing. The Doctor sighed, sinking back into the soft pillows, and by the time Evans returned, he had quietly and thankfully passed out.

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><p><strong><em>AN - Thanks for reading :) pretty please leave a review, I'd like to know how I did :)_**

**_If we could all take a moment to mourn the passing of my toaster. Thanks._**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N - Hello again! You guys have put me in a very good mood what with all the reviews that you've been sending in, so massive massive love to everyone who has signed up for alerts, favourited and reviewed. It really does mean a lot and thank you from the bottom of my heart :)  
>This is for Trinaluv33 because we've got a deal going. It's currently 21.03 UK time and I promised I'd have it up by this evening, so here goes nothing<em>! <em>**_

_****_**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the plot. Which is all mine. So paws off please, if you're trying to sue me. Thanks :) **

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><p>By the time the Doctor came round, the sun was just rising over the desert, turning the sand a deep, burnt orange. He pushed himself up on his elbows, wincing as his aching muscles began to protest, and swung himself off the bed. As soon as he stood up, he realised that someone had changed his clothes and was instantly glad that he'd been unconscious. That might have been very awkward.<p>

He crossed to the nearest window and pushed it open, closing his eyes and smiling as warm air rushed into the room. Even though the sun hadn't been up for long, it was already warming up outside, the kind of dry heat that promised a sunburn.

"Doctor?"

He spun around and found Evans walking towards him, smiling.

"Morning," he said.

"Hello," Evans said. "I see you're feeling better."

"Just needed to sleep it off," the Doctor said. "Any chance of getting out of here any time soon?"

"I don't think Johnson will let you go all that easily," she said. "I'm sorry he's being so foul."

"It's not your fault," the Doctor shrugged.

"He used to be all right, you know," Evans explained, sitting down on a chair. "When they kicked him off the Apollo Eleven mission a few years ago he snapped. He's never been the same since."

"What happened?" the Doctor asked.

"He had an argument with some of the other scientists over what they should do after the Moon landing. Johnson said that if they could send the astronauts up with enough fuel, they could do some more space exploration - maybe look for extra-terrestrial life-forms, or take a closer look at some of the stars. Cliff Charlesworth told him it would be far too dangerous. Johnson told them that nothing would ever be done if they were frightened of a bit of danger. That was when they kicked him out. He was demoted instantly from a promising career and he's hated anything to do with space since." Evans sighed.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. Despite everything Johnson had done to him, he couldn't help feeling sorry for the man. He'd been pushing the boundaries of space exploration and human knowledge, and had it shoved back in his face. That was enough to turn anyone against a stranger - especially a stranger who could travel among the stars any time he liked.

"I know it's hardly an excuse," Evans said. "It doesn't make what he's done right. I just thought you should know."

The doors swung open and Johnson walked in, his permanent scowl firmly in place. The Doctor sighed, wondering what was lined up for him this time. Frankly, it was getting tiresome.

"Doctor," Johnson said, as he neared them, and the Doctor and Evans glanced at each other.

"Which one?" the Doctor asked.

"You. I want you down in interrogation, now."

The Doctor stood up. He'd had enough of this overgrown bully throwing his weight around. "Look, I know you've had a tough time with NASA, but that's no excuse to make everyone else feel as if they don't matter. I know that they demoted you and humiliated you, and that's not fair on you because you were only doing what you thought was right, but I'm not Cliff Charlesworth."

Johnson had turned a deep shade of red, at a total loss for what to say. He rounded on Evans furiously, his eyes bulging with rage. "You told him?" he screeched. "Evans, when I took this base, I expected some respect from you lot. I didn't expect you to share parts of my personal life with scum like _that_." He threw the Doctor a filthy look and advanced on Evans. "You'll pay for that, you hear me?"

Suddenly the Doctor was on his feet, standing in Johnson's way. All of the warmth had disappeared from his eyes. They were utterly fearless and for a moment, Johnson wanted to run as fast as his legs would carry him and never look back.

"Don't even think about it," the Doctor said threateningly. "She's not responsible for this. Not a single one of us is, but if you're going to take it out on anyone, take it out on me. She's my friend. No one messes with my friends. I'm a Time Lord, the Oncoming Storm, and you're not hurting anyone while I'm around. You got that?"

"Is that so?" Johnson challenged, squaring up to the Doctor.

"Yeah, it is." the Doctor stood his ground, so that they were almost nose to nose, both of them refusing to back down.

"I'm going to set up your special chair again," Johnson smirked. "Remember the one with the wires? That one that almost killed you? Well, this time we're going to ramp up the voltage and see just how much of a big man you are then. I'll be back in ten minutes."

The Doctor watched him go and turned back to Evans, who looked as if she was about to cry.

"I'm so sorry," she said, hiding her face so that he wouldn't see her tears. "I've just made everything worse for you. You should have let him hit me. At least then he wouldn't be trying to kill you."

"I'll be fine," the Doctor smiled, pulling her hands away from her face and squeezing them reassuringly. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"You could be killed instantly from a massive electric shock," Evans said, staring at him incredulously. "How on earth is that all right?"

"I was hoping for something a little more optimistic than that," the Doctor smiled. He sighed heavily. "I feel like I've forgotten something. Or someone."

"Who?"

"That's just the thing. I can't remember." He frowned in concentration, pacing back and forth. Comprehension dawned on his face and he stopped pacing immediately, slapping himself around the forehead. Evans winced.

"Oh, I'm stupid," the Doctor said. "I'm getting old and I'm really, really stupid. How did I forget _that_?"

"Forget what?" Evans said, as loud footsteps approached from the corridor outside and Johnson could be heard distinctly in the distance, bellowing at someone to get out of his way.

"UNIT," the Doctor explained. "No time to explain. But they can get me out of here." Johnson was getting closer and closer by the minute. "Listen, I can take more electricity than a human. Two hearts, remember? Johnson doesn't know that. If I'm not back in an hour, ring UNIT and tell them I'm here. In fact, not as long as an hour. I don't know how much I can take. Just ring them and tell them to get here as soon as they can, okay? Thanks. For everything." He straightened up as Johnson entered the room, holding a pair of handcuffs.

"Right, you - alien. Handcuffs on and let's go." Johnson held them out as the Doctor walked over to him.

"There won't be any need for those," the Doctor told him. Johnson made to grab his arm, but the Doctor twisted away. "Take your hands off me. Thank you. Now, let's do this the civilised way, shall we?" He walked over to the doors, pulling them open, and turned to face Evans. "Remember," he said, "one hour."

"One hour? What are you on about?" Johnson snarled.

"None of your business," the Doctor told him, and walked off without another word.

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><p><strong><em>AN - Thanks for reading! Please review :) So I'm hoping there are no pitchforks this time (I'm so glad you guys don't know where I live, I don't think I'd be allowed out of the house...). If it's any consolation I'm already halfway through my next chapter - revision can go do one, as far as I'm concerned - which is all dramatic and involves the Chair of Doom. It will be up very soon! I wasn't too sure how to end this chapter and I didn't want to leave you with a huge cliffhanger in case I fall down the stairs and break both of my hands or something (what can I say, I'm accident-prone...) and leave you all hanging forever, because then you really WOULD hunt me down with pitchforks._**

**_I'd just like to take this opportunity to thank every single one of you who is reading this (if anyone's actually still reading, that is). I chanced upon the traffic for this today and I was totally blown away by the amount of people who have read this! Without further ado, love from me to you:  
>Aloha US of A, you guys are apparently my <span>biggest fans<span>! Be seeing you in July.  
>Big up to ma homiez in the UK, you guys are FAB.<br>Hey there Canada, how's it hanging?  
><em>****_G'day Australia! I want to come and live over there. Three weeks over 2009/2010 just wasn't enough.  
>Hallo Deutschland. Wie geht's? Danke fü r die Liebe. Ich liebe dich! (Apologies if that was poor, I've only learnt at school)<br>Hello Switzerland! So much love for that country, I'd also like to live there.  
>Bonjour France! I'll be back soon.<br>Sup, New Zealand? I have a load of friends who live there so huge love to you guys. Hope all is well after the earthquakes.  
>How's it going, Holland? I plan on visiting in a year or so.<br>Top of the morning, Ireland! Loving your accents.  
>Hello Poland! How's it going?<br>Hey, Norway! Send some Northern Lights down my way please, they're stunning.  
>Hi, Slovakia! How's life?<br>Hey, Sweden! I did a project on you guys in Year Seven. You're very interesting.  
>Buen dia, Chile! Going to be visiting Peru in July so massive love from across the border. I'm so jealous that you have llamas.<br>Hello, Belgium! My parents are visiting in the summer, be sure to look after them.  
>Hello, Republic of Korea! I've done countless lessons about your history at school. Loved it. <em>**

**_I find it very humbling that it's not just people in the UK and maybe a few from the USA, Canada and Australia, but it's people who live in countries where English isn't even a first language! Huge, huge love to everyone and apologies if I missed your country out, I tried not to. Regardless of where you are, what language you speak or whatever your favourite vegetable is, I am incredibly, most ineffably grateful and I can't find words to thank you enough. _**

**_With love, the three-toothed vampire walrus :E isn't he fangtastic?_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N - Aloha, everyone! As promised, Chapter Five, in all its glory. I spent absolutely ages trying to get this right so pretty, pretty please send me a nice review if you like it. Seriously, they make me write more. I'm sure you can all relate._**

**_Before I forget, a HUGE thank you to mmgage (and her wonderful husband) who are fortunately far better versed in classic who than I am. You wouldn't be reading this without them. I also need to thank Mistress of Magic22_; also, CRAZ3TANK and Trinaluv33 who have been responsible for several little moments in this, respectively. If you recognise something that you mentioned to me please don't be offended, I'm only including it because I think it's an improvement and I'm not in any way trying to plagiarise anyone's work because frankly it sucks when people do that, I know. If you don't want me to bounce ideas off you, let me know and I'll try my absolute best not to.__**

**__Once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed, you're all lovely! Without you I'd still be stuck on the first sentence.__**

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><p>As he walked, the Doctor examined the corridor intently, looking for a weak point where he might be able to make a bid for freedom. Then again, once he'd made it out of the building he'd have armed guards and a ten-foot high fence topped with razor wire to contend with. Even if he managed to get past that, there was still no escaping the fact that he was trapped in the Nevada desert, and to go out into the sun without any food, water or means of providing shade, would be suicidal. And even then, he wouldn't know which direction to go in. He could be lost until the heat finally took him. No, his best chance was waiting for UNIT. At least that was a definite escape route.<p>

"I see you've stopped babbling for five minutes," Johnson leered, pushing the doors to the warehouse open and shoving the Doctor inside.

"We don't have to do things this way," the Doctor said. "You could just let me go and never hear from me again."

"Oh, shut up." Johnson pushed the Doctor into the chair and strapped his ankles and wrists down, then started setting up the machinery. Once the Doctor was restrained, he laughed. "Not such a big man now, are you?" he chuckled. "If you'd just told me what I wanted to know in the first place you probably wouldn't even be here."

"But then my friends probably would, and I'm not going to let that happen," the Doctor said. Maybe, just maybe, if he could keep Johnson talking for long enough, UNIT would arrive before Johnson had a chance to shock him again. "I have a loyalty towards them," he explained. "I'm sure you understand that, as a military man. I can't betray them."

"Shut up," Johnson spat, attaching several wires to the Doctor's chest. "If you're not going to tell me anything I want to know, then just shut up."

"I'm sure I could tell you several things you'd like to know," the Doctor said. "For example, did you know that on average, a child uses approximately seven hundred and thirty crayons before their tenth birthday?" He stopped talking abruptly as Johnson's fist connected with his left ear, leaving it bruised and ringing loudly. The Doctor blinked rapidly, wondering if Johnson had a bionic arm. The man could certainly pack a punch.

"I told you, shut up," Johnson said. "I don't want to hear any more useless nonsense from you." He checked that the Doctor was strapped in firmly and stepped back, holding the switch and grinning madly. He flicked the switch and the Doctor clenched his teeth as the pain took hold. It was worse than it had been last time - much worse. When it finally stopped, he knew that it was only going to get worse.

As his brain slowly cleared, he realised that Johnson was laughing. He felt sick.

"Someone fetch Dr Evans," Johnson said, still grinning like a madman. "I think she should see this." He turned to the Doctor, who was doing his best to keep his face straight, refusing to show any pain. "Anything you'd like to tell me, or shall we do that again?"

"See if I care," the Doctor said with as much strength as he could spare, and clenched his jaw again as Johnson switched the current on. He resisted the urge to cry out in pain, and when the machine was switched off, he realised that the sole of his right foot had become the exit path for the electricity, burning the skin in the process. He wanted to pass out so that the pain would disappear, but he wouldn't allow Johnson the satisfaction.

The doors slammed after Evans as she rushed in, storming up to Johnson.

"Leave him alone!" she shouted, trying to shove him out of the way. Johnson raised his hand and a second later a loud slap bounced off the walls. The Doctor glanced up to see Evans holding her cheek, looking shocked. Their eyes met as Evans backed away, and the Doctor tried to tell her without words that he was sorry. She shook her head and smiled briefly, tears swimming in her eyes. _Hang in there. Help is on the way_, she mouthed, and the Doctor nodded so that she knew he had understood.

Johnson threw the switch again and the Doctor forgot everything else as the pain took hold again. The exit wound on his foot was getting worse.

_Just a little longer. You can do it_, said a small voice in his head. Then the electricity drowned out all conscious thought, leaving only the terrible aches behind.

He lost count of the amount of times he was electrocuted. A small, waning rational voice in his head told him he couldn't have been there much longer than about an hour, but it felt as if pain was the only thing he'd ever felt in all his life. The voice disappeared as the electricity took control of his body again.

In that instant, he stepped outside of his body, ordering it to start functioning properly, or else it was doomed. For a moment, he blacked out, but the voice brought him back again. _Wake up. Come on; get on with it. You've had worse than this. Think about something else. You have to stay awake if you want to live._ He took a deep, steadying breath, and forced his brain to think about something else. _The pterodactyl is the most common flying lizard, and it probably walked on four legs. No one knows what it used its skull crest for, now isn't that interesting… The name for a fear of long words is - how's that for irony? Whoever invented that word must have been having a great time…_

The metal doors at the end of the warehouse were opened very suddenly and everyone except the Doctor looked around to see an attack squadron of soldiers heading straight for them.

"Sir, I would advise you to drop the device immediately or we will open fire," one of the soldiers yelled across the room, and as they drew nearer, Evans breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the UNIT insignia on each of their uniforms. The soldiers halted in formation, and suddenly Johnson found himself staring down the barrels of twelve L64 assault rifles.

"Sir, drop the device!"

Johnson threw the switch down furiously and stepped back, remaining motionless as two soldiers seized him and wrestled him to the floor.

The Doctor was hovering on the edge of consciousness, fighting down a rising surge of bile in his throat. He wasn't sure how much more pain he could take.

Warm hands were undoing the straps around his wrists and ankles and he jumped, thinking that Johnson was back for some more sadistic torture. Instead, a familiar face smiled at him from underneath a peaked cap.

"Hello, old chap," said the man, running his eyes over the Doctor shrewdly. "You're in a bit of a state, aren't you? Not to worry. We'll have you fixed up in no time."

The Doctor smiled despite his pain, recognising the voice. He hadn't heard that voice for such a long time. "Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart," he said with a smile. "Long time no see." Then his body finally gave up, and he passed out.

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><p><strong><em>AN - Thanks for reading! It might be a few days before I manage to get the next chapter up because I'm actually having a life (at last) and I also REALLY need to revise for the upcoming GCSEs. In the meantime I would definitely recommend mmgage's latest work, The Doctor, the Nurse and the Queen because it's FAB. Full of cliffhangery goodness and if you're new to it, a whole thirty-six chapters to keep you satisfied!_**

**_Review, you know you want to _:E**


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N - To be honest I wouldn't be shocked if half of you were just about ready to kill me. I wouldn't blame you. I know, I know, I said I'd had this up by Sunday, but due to the fact that I didn't have a spare moment on Friday or at all on Saturday because I had friends over and then had to go on a photo shoot I couldn't write. And then on Sunday I had huge writer's block - you can thank Trinaluv33 for having something to read because honestly, without her, I still wouldn't even have a sentence written. _**

**_As always, much love to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and signed up for alerts. I couldn't have done this without you guys. I'm incredibly sorry it's been so long, I'll try not to do that to you again!_**

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><p>The Brigadier caught the Doctor as he fell, lowering him carefully to the floor. "Someone get a stretcher," he called, and turned to Evans. "Have you got a medical facility here?"<p>

"Yes," Evans said, hurriedly wiping away her tears. "It's just down that corridor. I'll take you myself."

Two soldiers arrived with a stretcher and the four of them rolled the Doctor's limp form onto it carefully, then wheeled it down the corridor towards the medical bay. Once inside, they transferred the Doctor to a bed, where Evans cleaned and dressed the exit wound on his foot, making a few notes.

"I suppose you're the young lady who telephoned?" the Brigadier said, still watching the Doctor.

"Yes. The Doctor told me to, just before Johnson took him away," Evans explained.

"What exactly was General Johnson hoping to achieve by electrocuting him?" the Brigadier asked.

"Information on his companions, as far as I know," Evans said. "Johnson wanted to bring them in, to question them. When the Doctor refused to tell him he started punishing him."

"He's a very loyal man, our Doctor," the Brigadier said.

"Of course I am," the Doctor mumbled, stirring but keeping his eyes shut. He frowned and Evans moved over, checking him over.

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked.

"Headache," the Doctor said, opening his eyes but shielding them from the light. "Brigadier, could you do me a favour?"

"Of course," the Brigadier said. "What is it?"

"My friends - Amy and Rory Williams… Or is it Pond? Oh, never mind. They're in Las Vegas, in a hotel - Circus Circus, I think it's called. Can you bring them here?"

"Certainly," the Brigadier said, and turned to the two soldiers who had helped to bring the Doctor to the medical bay. "You two. Send out someone to collect the Doctor's companions. I want them back here as soon as possible."

"Yes sir." They saluted, and left swiftly.

"Thanks," the Doctor said.

"No problem." the Brigadier sat down, taking his hat off. It had been a fairly eventful day and he still didn't know if the Doctor would be all right. "So, Doctor, which one are we on now?"

"Eleventh," the Doctor said, covering his eyes with his arm across his face. He was exhausted and he ached everywhere. His head was very painful and all he wanted was to fall into a healing sleep.

"You should get some rest," Evans said, looking at the Brigadier pointedly. "We'll come back later." The Brigadier stood up and followed Evans into her office, leaving the Doctor to rest.

"Oh my God. He looks like death warmed up."

"Amy, shush. He's asleep."

"Sorry. But he looks awful. What do you think happened?"

"No one's said anything, but I reckon they were trying to get something out of him."

"What do you mean?"

"Information. I mean, he's an alien, isn't he?"

"That's disgusting!"

"Amy, keep your voice down. We'll wake him up."

"I'm sorry, Rory, but what they've done to him is just horrible. I tell you when I find the person that did this, I'm going to kick them into the middle of next week. No one messes with the Doctor unless they want to mess with me."

The Doctor smiled as he recognised the low voices beside him. "There's that fiery ginger spirit," he said, grinning broadly.

"Doctor!" Amy stood up and hugged him so tightly he thought she'd never let him go.

"Hello, Pond," he said warmly. "Hi, Rory." They shook hands once Amy had let him go. "How was the honeymoon?"

"Well, there were no vampire fish from space this time, if that's what you mean," Rory smiled briefly, then frowned in concern as the Doctor winced, trying to sit up. "Are you all right?" he asked, his nursing instincts kicking in at once.

"I'm fine," the Doctor fell back against the pillows, his head pounding again. "How long have you been here?"

"About half an hour," Amy said, sitting on the bed. "Some UNIT bloke turned up in a fancy car and told us you were asking to see us. We didn't expect you to be lying around in bed," she said, smirking at him.

"You're one to talk," Rory said, "breakfast in bed every morning -" he faltered under a Scottish glare. "Which was my favourite thing to do for you."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Amy grinned. The Doctor yawned and Rory stood up, nudging Amy. "We'll go and get some tea," he said.

"It's fine, Rory, I don't mind.""All right, but you need to rest. We'll be right back, okay? Come on, Amy." He took her hand, pulling her away gently. She hugged the Doctor briefly. "See you in a minute."

They returned ten minutes later, feeling more refreshed after their long car journey across the Nevada desert. But when they opened the doors, they saw that the medical bay was quite empty. Though they rushed over to look for the Doctor, they were too late. In the space of ten minutes, he'd disappeared. They were just about to panic when a soldier burst through the doors, looking harassed. "Have you seen -" he began, but Amy cut him off.

"The Doctor? No, we were just wondering where he was ourselves."

"No, not the Doctor. I need the Brigadier."

"Who needs me?" the Brigadier had arrived to check on the Doctor.

"It's Johnson, sir. I was bringing him back from the bathroom and he punched me. I was knocked out, sir. When I came round he'd gone. The Doctor seems to have disappeared with him, sir."

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><p><em><strong>AN - DUN DUN DUUUN! I just couldn't resist leaving you with a gargantuan cliffhanger. Put the pitchfork down, please. I know I was awful and I didn't update for DAYS, but pretty please leave a review? It might beat this huge blockade in my head. Thanks for reading :E**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_A/N - Hello again! Fortunately all of those wonderful reviews I got encouraged me to write more and the block has gone, huzzah! I felt bad leaving you hanging for so long last time, so go ahead and enjoy this. Thanks again to those of you who have reviewed, favourited and signed up for alerts :)_**

**DISCLAIMER: Look, I don't own, all right? Could we all just enjoy my nice brainwaves, please? Thank you.**

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><p>Surprisingly, it hadn't taken a huge amount of effort on Johnson's part to grab the Doctor, steal a Jeep and tear through the gates without glancing back for a second. His prisoner was still unconscious in the back, hitting the bench he was lying across with a loud <em>thump!<em> each time the Jeep hit the uneven ground.

Johnson smiled to himself and turned the radio up, enjoying his sense of freedom. As soon as he'd gotten authority on the base, he'd made sure that he had friends in high places. It had been this very move that had allowed him out that afternoon - only a few days earlier, he had paid the guard who controlled the gates to do as he was told and keep his mouth shut, should anyone come asking questions. When he had recognised Johnson in the Jeep, he lifted the barrier without a second thought.

A particularly large bump sent the Doctor crashing to the floor and he woke with a yelp of pain as his right arm was crushed beneath his body. He sat up carefully, staying where he was on the floor for fear of falling over again, and discovered that he had been thrown rather unceremoniously into the back of an army Jeep. It was travelling at a considerable speed, considering how fast the desert was flashing by outside the bulletproof windows, and the lack of people in the truck could only mean one thing…

He pulled himself up on a wire mesh above his head and looked through into the driver's compartment, recognising the back of Johnson's head. He slid back down the wall with a groan and thought hard. How was he going to get out of this?

For a moment, he considered throwing the back doors open and leaping out - but even if he did, they were travelling at such a speed that he'd risk serious injury, and even if he was unharmed he was still stranded in the middle of nowhere. Besides, Johnson would notice right away and would probably turn the Jeep around to mow him down instead.

_No, you're definitely safer in the truck_, he reasoned.

He had no idea how long they'd been driving for, but when he looked out of the window, he couldn't see any sign of the base - or any sign of life at all, just a straight, deserted road, stretching out onto the horizon. It was no use trying to escape from the Jeep. Once the heat finally claimed him, there would only be vultures to look forward to. Somehow, he'd always imagined his death to be a little more colourful than that.

They hit another rock and the Doctor greeted the floor rather more quickly than he would have liked, feeling bruises starting to appear along his right side. His elbow seemed to have taken most of the impact and he flexed it carefully, cursing under his breath as pain shot through the joint. It wasn't broken, but it was badly bruised - bad enough for it to hurt when he tried to pull himself up again. He gave up and sat against the wall instead. At least he couldn't fall over anymore.

They continued to drive for perhaps another two hours or thereabouts before Johnson stopped briefly. He threw open the doors at the back, grinning maliciously when he saw that the Doctor was awake.

"Had a good kip, Sleeping Beauty?" he said mockingly, hauling the Doctor to his feet. He scowled. "Get moving, scumbag, we're not stopping over." He waited until the Doctor was about to step down onto the ground, then kicked him at the back of his knee, making his leg buckle and sending him sprawling in the dust.

The Doctor stood up quickly, brushing himself down. "You didn't have to do that," he said.

"No," Johnson said casually, as if they were discussing general trivia. "But I wanted to. You're not gonna stop me, are you?" He chuckled and started to walk away.

"That depends," the Doctor said, and Johnson rounded on him, his face unsmiling once more.

"Depends on what?" he snarled.

"It depends whether you're going to attack me face to face, or from behind. I would have thought, as a military man, that you can understand which is the coward's option." He stopped as Johnson punched him in the solar plexus, knocking all of the air out of his lungs. He coughed, leaning heavily on the side of the Jeep to steady himself, and forced himself to breathe. The outside temperature was intense and the Doctor found himself wishing that they hadn't stopped.

Johnson laughed and checked his watch. "Playtime's over, ratbag. Into the Jeep you go." He shoved the Doctor back inside, slamming the doors before he had a chance to even sit up.

The Doctor stood up against the wire mesh as Johnson climbed into the driver's seat again.

"What now?" he said exasperatedly. "I preferred you when you were unconscious."

"Any chance of some water?" the Doctor asked. "Some of us are dehydrating back here."

Johnson slid a part of the mesh aside, tossed a metal canteen into the back, and pushed the grille shut again. The Doctor grabbed the canteen and sat back down as the engine started again and they were off again, driving into the desert.

The Doctor drank from the canteen, doing his best to conserve the water. He didn't think Johnson would be so quick to give him more water.

His stomach growled and he realised that it had been several hours since he'd last eaten, which wouldn't help at all if he needed to make a break for it.

The Doctor bounced again, trying to keep his already injured arm out of harm's way and failing spectacularly. Giving up, he held his arm close to his body, folding his t-shirt up around it to hold it steady. His elbow was beginning to swell up and he slapped himself mentally for not being more careful. He needed to escape; he had no doubt that Johnson would have no reservations in hurting him badly now that they were out in the middle of nowhere.

_Brilliant. Just brilliant_, he told himself irritably. _You're driving in the middle of the desert with no one but a borderline psychopath for company; you're hungry, you're dehydrated and you're hurt already. No chance of escape whatsoever. How rubbish is that?_

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><p><em><strong>AN - Pitchforks are now banned. Apologies for the inconvenience. I stayed up until 00.49 to finish this for you, now please be nice and review? Thanks for reading! :)**_

_**Aloha to Japan and Russia. Thanks for joining us!**_

**:E**


	8. Chapter 8

**_A/N - Hello, all of you lovely people. You've made me most happy, so I'm updating. I've literally just finished, it's 02:10am and my brain has died, so apologies for any errors, I'm willing to bet there are some. As always, huge thank you to reviewers and everyone who has favourited and alerted. You have no idea how happy it makes me._**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own what isn't mine, funnily enough. Now hush, you're spoiling our fun.**

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><p>As they bounced along, the Doctor pulled himself up onto the bench that he had originally been lying on, leaning forward to talk to Johnson. "You really shouldn't drive so fast," he shouted over the roar of the engine. "You'll have an accident."<p>

"Shut it, you," Johnson said, banging a fist against the grille.

"I'd hate for anything to happen to you," the Doctor said, and found that he meant it. Even though this man had put him through unbearable amounts of pain, even though he'd done his absolute best to kill him, he couldn't bring himself to hate him. He wasn't sure if there was a part of him that knew how to hate.

Johnson veered suddenly to the right in order to bounce over another set of small boulders, sending the Doctor crashing to the floor again. Seconds later, he slid forwards into the wall, listening to the engine splutter and die with some satisfaction.

"You could always get seat-belts, you know," he said drily, picking himself up from the floor and feeling fresh bruises appear.

"I told you, shut up and get out of the car." Johnson got out of the truck and opened the back doors to allow him out. The Doctor paused to stretch and earned himself a sharp poke in the back with the butt of Johnson's revolver. "Get moving."

"Get moving where, exactly? We're in the middle of the desert," the Doctor said.

"Round the front. Go and look at the engine." Johnson gave him a rough shove.

"All right, all right, I'm going."

The Doctor walked around to the front of the truck and lifted up the bonnet with his good arm, inspecting the engine. It was only overheated, but he wasn't going to let Johnson know that. A broken engine meant that they couldn't go anywhere, and that would give the others a chance to catch up with them.

"I can't fix it," the Doctor lied. "It looks like it was in a bad way before, anyway. The engine is full of sand, too - there's no way we could get it running again."

"Better get walking then, hadn't you?" Johnson growled.

"Are you mad?" the Doctor said incredulously. "We're in the middle of the desert. There is nowhere to walk _to_. If we leave this truck, we're going to die long before we reach civilisation. And I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to die yet."

"For Christ's sake!" Johnson yelled in frustration and punched the Jeep, achieving nothing but a sore hand. "Right, since you're not man enough to walk, we'll sit here and wait, and the first person who goes past can give us a lift. Now you're gonna stick with me and not run off, or I'll shoot you. Got that?" The Doctor nodded. As much as he wanted to give one of his usual replies, there was a mad glint in Johnson's eye and he wouldn't put it past the man to shoot him in cold blood. There was a very, very long queue of people who would like to kill him, and he had a nasty feeling that this latest addition would be shoving his way to the front given half the chance.

He got up and sat in the back of the truck again, staying out of the baking sun. Even in the shade, it was extraordinarily hot. His right foot was still stinging from the electrical wound Johnson had given him, and though his biology meant that it was healing fairly quickly, it was still painful.

A warm breeze ruffled his hair as he lay back in the shade, covering his eyes from the glare of the sun. He could feel another headache coming on and took a long drink from the canteen, hoping it was just dehydration that was causing it.

At some point he must have dozed off, as he was rudely awoken an hour later by Johnson. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and squinted at the horizon. A small cloud of dust was heading straight for them. At their distance, it was impossible to say whether it was a car or a sandstorm, but that didn't stop Johnson from demanding that the Doctor sat up and, as soon as the vehicle drew nearer, to stand up and hail them over. Then, they would either steal the car or demand a lift.

As the dust cloud drew nearer, the Doctor realised that it was an identical Jeep to theirs, and that could only mean one thing - rescue. He stood up and walked towards it. The road gave a deceptive effect, making the car look closer than it actually was. It looked ready to run them over. In reality, it was twenty minutes behind them.

Just as he was about to start sprinting towards the second truck, there was a sudden shout of triumph from Johnson as their own engine sputtered into life. He raced around to seize the Doctor, throw him into the back of the truck again, then climbed up into the driver's seat, stamping on the accelerator and pressing it down to the floor. This time he was careful to avoid any boulders, which meant that the ride was much smoother, but the Doctor found himself wishing that there were rocks strewn right across the road. At least that would slow them down.

He glanced out of the back window and felt his rising hope sink like a lead balloon as he realised that they were outstripping the other Jeep by far. They were getting further and further away with each second until they were no more than a dust cloud on the horizon once more, and then disappeared all together. The Doctor sat down heavily with his head in his hands, completely oblivious to any pain he was experiencing at that particular moment. He'd had a chance to escape, and, like a fool, he hadn't risked it. And where had that got him?

Right back to square one.

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><p><strong><em>AN - Not too sure about this one, I was tired. I'm jealous that the Doctor gets to drop off whenever but my brain won't let me sleep. Insomnia sucks, big time. Anyway, leave a review and let me know what you think. Thank you :)_**

**_I just checked the traffic for this and almost passed out in shock - 1019 visitors and 2663 hits. That's incredible. It's also slightly scary. Seriously, 1019? I never, ever expected that - I didn't even expect 100. I'm sure some of you, maybe all of you, can relate to that, but I find those figures absolutely astounding. I honestly can't tell you how happy that makes me. Life = made, because of you._**

**:E**


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N - Hello again! In complete contrast to the massive block of a few days ago, I now can't stop getting these ideas down - which is probably brilliant, in your opinions! As always, big thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited and alerted. You've quite literally made my life.  
>Anyone else REALLY excited for the new series which will be airing, my time, in just over 17 hours? :D <em>**

**_As ever, this was written at an unearthly hour when sleep refused to join me, so please ignore typos, etc., and blame my stupid brain._**

**DISCLAIMER: No, I STILL don't own anything that isn't mine.**

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><p>The Doctor winced as he was thrown mercilessly against the side of the Jeep. Johnson had just swung them around a sharp corner at what must have been a highly illegal speed, and they now seemed to be heading back the way they had come.<p>

"You can't run forever, you know," he yelled over the roar of the engine. "Eventually you're going to run out of fuel."

"Shut up!" Johnson bawled, stamping on the accelerator and sending the engine into overdrive. "Just shut up, you stupid, worthless piece of scum!"

The Doctor wanted to give him a sharp retort, but for once, he kept his mouth shut. Something was very, very wrong here. Johnson had already been disgraced by NASA and the military. It was extremely doubtful that he'd risk everything again just for one alien life form. Impossible, even. He didn't seem like the type who liked losing everything.

_Unless he's already lost everything_, said a small voice at the back of his mind. _Think about it. You act exactly the same - risking everything because you've got nothing left to lose._

But there had to be a reason for that. Sure, he'd been demoted and ridiculed, but that wasn't all there was to the man.

"You're dying aren't you?" the Doctor said, and even from the back bench he could see all of the colour drain from Johnson's face. His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as he gripped it hard.

"Don't be stupid," he growled.

"It makes perfect sense," the Doctor persevered. "You've been acting like you've got nothing to lose - as if something might kill you at any moment anyway, so you might as well go out with a bang. I know that you were demoted and humiliated, and I know that that can't have been nice for you, but that doesn't turn a human as insane as you. So there must be something else. You're not salvaging anything from this, so I can only conclude that you've got nothing to lose; ergo, you're dying." he paused, watching Johnson closely. The man hadn't moved. Without warning, he stamped on the brake, sending the Doctor crashing into the metal grille again.

The sudden silence was awkward and the Doctor examined the floor closely, wondering if he'd finally gone too far. The man had tried to kill him, after all.

"How long have you got?" he asked, shattering the silence. Johnson shrugged.

"Aneurysm," he explained, indicating his brain. "Right in here. It could go off at any moment - when I'm under extreme pressure, or if I'm sleeping. I'm essentially a walking time bomb."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "So taking me hostage is meant to help with that, is it?"

"You're not the only one," Johnson said, his face splitting into a terrifying, maniacal grin. "I've been wiping out any traces of extra-terrestrial life forms that appear on the planet."

"What's that supposed to achieve, except for a very long prison sentence?" the Doctor asked incredulously.

"Because every stinking, filthy piece of _alien_ is another being I've outlived. I'd get executed for killing another human being. But you lot? No one cares about you. Every time I kill another one of you, I've lived more than you."

"It doesn't work like that," the Doctor said. "Some live more in twenty years than others do in eighty. What matters is the person."

"No, you're not getting it," Johnson said, struggling to keep his temper under control. "It's not about living a life - it's just about living. I'm going to live longer than you have, and then I won't feel quite as bad."

"You don't have to do that, you know," the Doctor said. "You could do some good in the world with the rest of your time. There are always people who need help, Johnson, and not nearly enough people who are willing to give it."

Johnson rolled his eyes. "You sound like another one of those bloody Communists," he spat. "Always looking out for the faceless masses before themselves. I don't care about the faceless masses. I don't care about the workers. They're insignificant."

"No one is insignificant," the Doctor said sharply. "Everyone has an impact on somebody's life in one way or another. I met someone once who told me that our fingerprints will never fade from the lives we touch. You should start by being the change you want to see in the world."

There was a long, awkward pause, and for one very brief moment, the Doctor thought that he might have had some sort of impact on the man sitting in front of him, that maybe he'd started off something new.

Johnson opened the door very suddenly, then went around to the back and hauled the Doctor out, almost throwing him to the floor.

"You don't have to do this," the Doctor said, ducking quickly as Johnson swung a fist at his head. "Calm down!" he yelled, beginning to lose his temper.

"Don't you tell me what to do!" Johnson roared, seizing the Doctor by the shoulders and attempting to swing him to the floor again. The Doctor rolled with it, grabbing onto Johnson and dragging him along so that he was lifted up again at the last minute. They grappled furiously in the intense heat like two wrestlers desperate for the title, both absolutely determined not to lose.

Johnson suddenly kicked viciously at the Doctor's right knee, making his leg twist and crumple instantly and sending him sprawling in the dust. He stayed where he was, breathing deeply as the pain intensified with every second. If he could just hold the pain off for a few more minutes, it might begin to fade and he would be able to think clearly again.

There was a loud, metallic click and he looked up to find himself staring down the barrel of Johnson's revolver. Hell.

He tried to sit up, but Johnson pushed him back down effortlessly with one foot. "No," he grinned. "You're going to do as I say now, and no clever remarks. We've got a little decision to make, you and I." he chuckled, pausing for effect. "See, I've got a problem here and I need you to help me out here." He looked at the Doctor expectantly.

"Go on," the Doctor said, and Johnson removed his foot from his chest.

"Well, I'd meant to bring two bullets with me when you and I left," he said, pacing up and down, examining the gun closely. "That is, one bullet for you and one bullet for me, because they're never going to take me back now. But I've got this little problem, because there's only one bullet in here, and two of us. Now," he cocked the gun and aimed it squarely between the Doctor's eyes. "Which one of us is it going to be?"

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><p><strong><em>AN - I have a feeling that I'm going to be horribly punished for leaving you with that... Go, go, review, demand more, call me a fiendish being - it'll make my day!_**

**_Thanks for reading! _:E**


	10. Chapter 10

**_A/N - Aloha, people of the internet! I've been harassed to update, so I'm hoping that this will suffice. At least I don't make you wait an entire week, like Moffat does... *shakes fist* So far I seem to be the only person I know who understands the new episode, which is kind of odd. I also thought that the monsters in this one TOTALLY looked like Voldemort, which was very distracting. I won't say any more just in case you haven't seen it yet (spoilers!), but I can promise you it's good.  
>I seem to be rambling again. Sorry. I'll be quiet now.<em>**

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own, so don't sue (the court case would be boring). **

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><p>The Doctor thought hard before opening his mouth to speak. It was fairly difficult to convince his brain to think straight when a gun was pointed straight at his head.<p>

"The way I see it," he said, in as calm a manner as he could manage, "you missed out the third option. You put that gun down and don't pick it up again. You and I sit down and talk about this, and nobody dies."

"You're right. I did miss the third option." Johnson said, keeping the gun pointed at the Doctor's head. "If I shoot you, should I make it quick and painless, so you don't even know what's hit you, or should I make sure you feel your body dying?"

Dark clouds were rolling in from the West, threatening to block out the sun. The atmosphere had been heavy for the past few hours, a draining humidity that promised a thunderstorm. Neither of them seemed to pay attention to the rapidly changing weather conditions, or the danger it might bring.

"Where is it, this aneurysm of yours?" the Doctor asked, but he thought he knew the answer already.

"That doesn't matter!" Johnson said furiously.

"There's a ticking time bomb in your brain, which controls everything in your body," the Doctor said. "Of course it matters."

"Right inside the hippocampus," Johnson said, and the gun wavered ever so slightly.

"And they can't perform surgery?"

"They could. But they'd have to go through the frontal lobe and then cut out part of the hippocampus just to fix this aneurysm. I probably wouldn't survive, and even if I did, I'd lose my memory." Johnson scowled and took hold of the gun with both hands. "I know what you're doing," he snarled. "You're trying to get me on your side by talking. It's not going to work."

"It already has," the Doctor said. "Come on, Johnson, you're not going to shoot me."

"Shut up," Johnson said, gripping the gun more tightly. "You don't know me. You don't know anything."

"I know that you're scared," the Doctor said. "Each breath might be your last; of course you're scared. That's all right. I'd be worried if you weren't scared. Come on, we can do this another way. Just put the gun down."

"No! I told you, no interruptions; no clever remarks. I don't want to hear you ever again. I'm going to shoot you, and I'm going to watch the life bleed out of you, and I'm going to enjoy living longer than you."

"Look, if you were going to shoot me, I think you would have done it already," the Doctor said exasperatedly. "You don't have to be the tough guy all the time. Just put the gun down, and let me help you."

"Help me?" Johnson said, sounding disgusted at the very idea. Overhead, clouds blotted out the sun, and the first few drops of rain fell to the ground. "Look at you. You can't even help yourself."

As the rain started to fall more heavily, a telltale dust cloud appeared in the distance again, growing closer by the second. The Doctor was pleased to see that this time, they weren't hanging around. Whoever was driving must have been way over the speed limit.

"Look, they're going to be here very soon, so it's time to make your mind up," the Doctor said. "You're not the boss of me," Johnson said. His hand was beginning to waver again.

"No, I'm not, but what do you think is going to happen when they turn up and see you pointing a gun at my head?" the Doctor said. "You put it down, and I'll never tell a soul what happened between us. But if you don't, then I can't help you."

"I already told you, I don't need your help, or anybody else's."

"Give it up, Johnson. You can't run forever." the Doctor glanced over at the dust cloud and was relieved to see that the second Jeep was already close. The engine could be heard faintly through the pattering of rain on dry earth and Johnson wheeled around, taking the gun off the Doctor. He was running out of time.

The Doctor tried to sit up in order to grab Johnson's gun, but as soon as he tried to stand, pain shot through his leg and he remained where he was, gritting his teeth. Johnson turned around and laughed.

"You're a mess," he said. "Last of the Time Lords, wasn't it? Making yourself look all high and mighty, more important by far than any of us humans." He raised the gun again. "Not such a big man now, are we?"

The Doctor thought hard. He was running out of things to say that wouldn't get him killed. The rain was getting heavier, fat, wet drops running down his face, plastering his hair flat on his head. It was, at least, a relief from the heat. Cold water ran down the back of his neck and he shivered briefly, then made a conscious effort to hold himself steady. He didn't want Johnson to think he was afraid.

Johnson glanced over his shoulder. The second Jeep was almost upon them. "Decision time, Doctor," he said. "Who's going to take this bullet?"

"I'd really prefer it if you just put that gun down, Johnson, but if you're going to shoot anyone, then shoot me. I'm not going to let you throw everything away," the Doctor said. "I know it's been hard for you but you can keep going."

There was a squeal as brakes were slammed on, and several loud shouts as several UNIT soldiers and the Brigadier barrelled out of the Jeep. Two soldiers seized Johnson and forced him onto his knees with his arms behind his back, and seconds later, Amy and Rory appeared, obviously shaken but full of sympathy for the Doctor.

"Are you all right?" Rory said, kneeling beside him and helping him sit up.

"How did you two get here with them?" the Doctor said, not wanting to answer Rory's question.

"You didn't seriously think we'd just sit tight and let them handle the rescuing, did you?" Amy said. "You need somebody to look out for you."

The Doctor smiled and tried to stand up, but paled and almost fell again. Rory caught him easily, pulling him up onto his feet and taking most of his weight.

"What have you done?" he asked, indicating the Doctor's leg.

"We had a bit of a fight," the Doctor explained. "He kicked me. I'll be fine."

"Sir!" A shout went up from one of the soldiers. Johnson had managed to work his way free once more, and was now heading straight for the Doctor, with the gun held steady in his hands.

"Rory," the Doctor said quickly, without taking his eyes off Johnson. "Go and grab Amy and don't let her go, understand?" Rory nodded and stood beside Amy, wrapping a precautionary arm around her waist.

"No!" Amy cried, realising what was about to happen. "Rory, let me _go!_" She fought against him, but he held on tightly, refusing to let her go.

A tremendous boom above their heads announced the arrival of yet more rain as Johnson stopped, and a single gunshot split the air around them.

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><p><strong><em>AN - Oh I'm a devious one, me! I just couldn't resist that. Please review and let me know how I did :)  
><em>****_In the meantime, I hope you're all enjoying series 6, and if you're unlucky enough not to get BBC One - well, what do you think BBC iPlayer is for?_**

**_Thanks for reading _:E**


	11. Chapter 11

**_A/N - Yes, yes, I'm back again to sort out that cliffhanger! You lot know how to make a person happy, don't you? A bucketload of lovely reviews and a bunch of people who have favourited and alerted - you're all fantastic. Thank you._**

**_It's another late-night piece of work, so excuse any SPaG errors. I truly suck at checking my own work. Thanks to CRAZ3TANK for a pretty awesome phrase that I used. Thank you, my dear fellow._**

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own. Let's get onto the interesting part, shall we?**

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><p>A gunshot echoed across the valley and Johnson crumpled as a UNIT soldier took aim and fired. The bullet hit him square in the chest and he was thrown backwards, landing on his back in the dust, a large red stain already appearing on his chest.<p>

"No!" the Doctor went forwards immediately, ignoring the pain in his leg. It was shaking badly, but the Doctor went on doggedly until he reached Johnson, then fell to his knees. There was a hole in Johnson's chest a few inches above his heart, through which his life was rapidly escaping. His face had turned pale and the rain mixed with sweat and blood on his skin, creating a cold sweat on his face and a crimson puddle around him. He was gasping for air, looking at the Doctor desperately. The Doctor pulled his shirt off without a second thought and pressed it against the bullet wound in an attempt to stop the blood flowing. Pain crossed Johnson's face as pressure came onto a punctured lung and broken ribs.

"You're going to be all right," the Doctor said. "Just hold on." He turned to face the rest of the group, who were all standing absolutely still, as if they had been frozen. Rory still had his arm around Amy, but it seemed to be stopping her from collapsing rather than restraining her. She'd never seen a person get shot like that.

"Somebody call a medic!" the Doctor yelled at them, and suddenly, everybody seemed to have a much more important job to do. Rory appeared behind the Doctor, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him gently away.

"Doctor -"

"Rory! Rory the Roman; always on hand in a crisis. Give me a hand here. We need to stop the bleeding." the Doctor smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

"Doctor."

"Come on, Rory, don't hang around. There's a life at stake here." the Doctor turned back to Johnson, who was still bleeding badly, and exerted more pressure on his wound. "I'm sorry," he said, "but this is the only way I can stop you from bleeding to death."

"Don't…" Johnson coughed, and blood appeared on his lips. He didn't have long left. "Don't… Want… Let me -_ go_…" he managed, going paler as he pushed himself too far.

"Shh, don't try to talk," the Doctor said. "You're going to be fine. We just need to stop this bleeding, get you fixed up, and then we'll see what we can do about that little problem of yours."

"Doctor."

"Rory, this really isn't a good time!" the Doctor said, barely concealing the anger in his voice.

"Doctor, look at him." Rory said forcefully. "He's dying. There is nothing left for you to do." He crouched down, trying to pull the Doctor's bloodstained hands away from Johnson's chest.

"There must be something we can do," the Doctor said, turning to Rory. Raindrops were streaming down his face, making it look like he was crying. "He doesn't deserve to die. Not like this."

"No, of course he doesn't," Rory said, pulling the Doctor away as his hands relaxed. "No one does. But if we try to help him, we're only going to make him hurt more."

Johnson's breaths were becoming shorter now as he gasped for air. Blood was filling his only functioning lung and the Doctor took his hand as he slowly drowned in his own body fluid. Johnson was pleasantly surprised by the lack of pain. He had expected the kind of burning pain that he'd seen all too many young boys deal with in Vietnam. He expected to be screaming in agony, but all he felt was cold. He'd never felt so cold in all his life.

He looked at the Doctor, trying to tell him without words that he was sorry for everything he'd done. The Doctor nodded. He already knew.

There was a final, very horrible gargling noise as Johnson took his last, gasping, desperate breath, and then, at last, he was still. Glazed eyes were staring up at the thunderclouds above their heads, lifeless and unblinking as rain fell onto them. Rory reached over and closed the lids carefully, then turned to the Doctor.

It was hard to tell beneath all of the rain if he really was crying - at any rate, his eyes looked very red. In all of those nine hundred and seven years of his life he'd seen thousands of deaths - even caused a few of them himself - held the hand of a dying friend, or comforted the relatives who were left behind afterwards. But for all of that experience, for every time he'd seen the light fade from somebody's eyes, friend or foe, it hadn't got any easier.

"Come back to the Jeep," Rory said quietly, reaching out to help him stand up. "Come on. You're not exactly in a fit state yourself and it's raining."

There was a very awkward pause, during which the Doctor stared down at Johnson's body, unmoving. "You didn't have to kill him," he said.

"I'm afraid we did, Doctor." the Brigadier had arrived, removing his hat as a sign of respect. He might have hated Johnson and all that he stood for, but he would never dishonour a man in death. "He was about to shoot you."

"No," the Doctor said, keeping his voice even but letting his anger spill over. "I meant you didn't have to kill him because he didn't know what he was doing. He had a brain aneurysm. Right in the middle of the part that makes you who you are. All the time that was there, it was putting pressure on his brain, and making him do stupid things that he would never normally do - like kidnapping an alien and driving across the desert in order to shoot him. That's why he wasn't behaving rationally. _That's_ why you didn't have to shoot him. He didn't know what he was doing."

"How do you know?" the Brigadier asked, almost incredulously.

"Because I don't just look at things, I _see_ things," the Doctor said. "I saw a man who had already been beaten and humiliated and demoted. I saw a man who was desperate. I saw a man who was willing to take the ultimate risk and shoot me, and then himself, because he had nothing left to lose. He'd already lost his career; his whole lifestyle. Then he lost his freedom because of an overfilled blood vessel in his brain. It ruined his life and took everything he ever knew away from him, even though he didn't realise that. He had nothing left to lose. And let me tell you, there's nothing more scary than a man who has nothing left to lose." the Doctor turned to Rory, allowing him to help him up, and walked away without another word.

"You're in a right state," Rory said as the Doctor sat down heavily in the back of one of the Jeeps. Rain was still falling heavily outside and a very damp Amy appeared as Rory examined the Doctor's leg. It was obvious that she'd been crying.

"Come here, Pond," the Doctor said, shifting so that she could sit next to him. Almost immediately, she broke down into tears again, and the Doctor pulled her close.

"I've never seen anyone get shot before," she said. "Oh, God. That was _horrible_." She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I didn't like the guy, but that was just unbelievable."

"Everybody has to die sometime," the Doctor said.

"Not like that," Amy shook her head.

"No, not like that," the Doctor agreed. "But he wasn't the same man anymore. He was being controlled by something that nobody could fix, and it was killing him." He shivered. The cold was getting to him now that he had lost his shirt, and he reached into the back of the Jeep, pulling a blanket over his shoulders and wrapping Amy up in another. "It's a shame there aren't any ponchos," he grinned, and at last, Amy broke into a small smile.

"You've grown a beard," she said.

"Well, they didn't give me a razor," the Doctor said. "But I kind of like it. It's growing on me."

Amy rolled her eyes at his pitiful joke. "Shave it off," she said. "You've got old man whiskers."

"I like my old man whiskers," the Doctor said defensively. "Old man whiskers are cool. They make me look wise."

"Please shave it off," Amy begged. "You look ridiculous."

"We'll get you a new fez if you shave it off," Rory said, putting the first aid kit away now that the Doctor's injuries were taken care of.

"Now you're talking!" the Doctor said, and shuffled to the back so that he could lean against the wall, with Amy on one side and Rory on the other. Exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him and he yawned, fighting off sleep.

"You really should get some sleep," Rory said.

"No," the Doctor said, but his eyes were already closing. "I need to talk to the Brigadier -"

"Oh, go on with you," Amy said. "He can wait for five minutes."

There was no response, but a second later a very familiar head with a mop of dark-brown hair came to rest on her shoulder, and a loud snore filled the silence.

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><p><strong><em>AN - Apologies if I've depressed you somewhat with that. I depressed myself. Had to get out all of the sad songs on iTunes so I'm probably now going to go and write depressing music in a minor key with a 5/4 time signature. Somebody cheer me up with a review. Please. Save me from my E minor composition, I find it dull._**

**_Hola/Buenos dias (look, I'll admit it, I don't know what you say. My basic point was this: HELLO.) to the Portuguese dudes who have just joined us. _**

_**Thanks for reading!**_** :E**


	12. Chapter 12

**_A/N - Aloha, for the last time. I've decided that this is as good a place as any to end it, so welcome to the end. Thank you so, so much to everyone who has stuck with this over the past few weeks, to everyone who has reviewed, threatened me with a pitchfork or several, favourited, signed up for alerts, read this, and been insanely awesome in general. YOU ARE ALL FANTASTIC. I love you all. Yes, even you._**

**DISCLAIMER: Now look, we've been through this. Do. Not. Own. Can't you read?**

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><p>"Doctor, wake up."<p>

Someone was shaking him gently by the shoulder and he shrugged the hand off, scowling and turning away.

"Hush. Sleeping," he mumbled. He heard whoever it was beside him struggling not to laugh and sighed.

"Shouldn't we leave him to sleep?" said a familiar Scottish voice.

"I'm awake now," the Doctor said irritably, opening his eyes and blinking rapidly, shielding them from the light.

"Oh, stop complaining," Amy said, but smiling all the same. "You've been asleep for ages. It was really quiet."

The Doctor chose to ignore her last remark and tried to sit up, examining his surroundings. He wasn't surprised to see that they'd taken him back to the medical bay at Area 51.

"You need to lie down," Rory said, trying to push him back.

"Lying down is boring," the Doctor said, "I've been lying down for far too long. You can't see anything except the ceiling, and this isn't a very interesting ceiling. If you're not going to let me stand up, you could at least let me look forwards instead of up."

Rory smiled. "You seem to be feeling better, anyway. Do you want anything?"

"A Jammy Dodger," the Doctor said. "Or maybe some rice. Or both. Yeah, let's go with both."

"Rice?" Amy said, giving him the same, bewildered look she had given him all those years ago when he had sat in front of her eating fish fingers and custard.

"Yeah, rice," the Doctor smiled. "I like rice. Rice is great if you're hungry and you want two thousand of something."

Amy snorted. "You're such a dork."

"I know. Dorks are cool," he said.

"Right…" Amy said sarcastically. "Anyway, Rory and I were just saying that we should probably get back to the TARDIS, get you fixed up, and then hit the beach. And I mean an actual beach this time, not the middle of Wales, all right?"

"That doesn't sound particularly exciting," the Doctor said, looking slightly disappointed. "It sounds like something we'd do on a Thursday afternoon." He pulled a face and shuddered. "Thursday afternoons are rubbish. Can't we do a Saturday thing? I love a Saturday thing, me."

"I think you should probably take it easy for a couple of days," Rory said. "I know you heal faster than us and all, but there's still been a lot of physical and emotional strain on your body." He changed tack when he realised that the Doctor was still looking like a troublesome young child being denied his favourite toy. "Look, the last thing we need is for you to pass out on us when we're running for our lives and then get eaten by a giant outer space tiger, or something."

"You've got a point there," the Doctor said, though he still didn't look happy.

"Stop sulking," Amy said, and picked up a bag from the floor. "You can borrow some of Rory's things until we get driven back to the TARDIS, okay? There's some shaving stuff in there too. You can go to the bathroom, and I don't want to see you again until the facial fuzz is long gone."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You're not picky at all, are you?" he grinned, throwing back the sheets and standing up, allowing them to help him up for once. He was still unsteady on his feet, but felt better than he had last time he'd been conscious.

He emerged several minutes later, clean-shaven and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Amy and Rory couldn't help but burst out laughing when they saw him. For once in his life, he looked normal.

"Blimey, you could actually pass off as human," Amy giggled.

"Shut it, Pond," he said, then looked over at Rory. "You and I need to have a chat."

Rory stopped laughing when he saw how serious the Doctor looked, wondering if a lethal alien was perhaps lurking in his wash kit. "Okay," he said uncertainly.

"Rory Williams," the Doctor said, fixing him with a stern gaze, "are you honestly telling me that you don't own one single bow-tie in your entire wardrobe?"

"I can't say that I do," Rory said, now concerned for the Doctor's sanity. "Why?"

"I don't know how you cope," the Doctor said, his expression softening to one which he usually saved for people who had just lost everything they held most dear. "I feel naked without one. Tell you what, as soon as we've done the boring Thursday afternoon thing, we'll go and get you one of your very own."

"Okay," Rory glanced over at Amy, pleading her to help him out of the terrifying prospect of male bonding with the Doctor.

"Come on, you idiot," Amy said, pulling the Doctor to his feet. "Let's get you out of here."

Ten minutes later, as they were about to depart in yet another Jeep, two figures appeared. Dr Evans and the Brigadier had come to say goodbye.

"Thanks for coming so quickly," the Doctor said, shaking hands with the Brigadier. "I've no idea when I'll see you, but until then. Look after yourself, won't you?"

"Same to you, old chap." As they broke apart, the Brigadier saluted and the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Oh, stop it," he said. "You know I hate it when people salute." He was smiling all the same.

"And thank _you_," the Doctor said, turning to Evans, who was holding out his sonic screwdriver. He beamed and turned it over in his hands. "And there I was thinking I'd have to build a new one!" he said. "Thank you. You were brilliant. Just watch out for any more aliens, won't you?" he caught her up in a warm hug, trying to tell her without words that he was eternally, most ineffably grateful to her for saving his life. When they broke apart, she was smiling, blinking back a tear.

All too soon, Amy, Rory and the Doctor were settled in the back of the Jeep, waving as the engine started and they drove away, disappearing into a cloud of dust as they drove back to wherever it was they had come from.

Evans turned away, sighing, and shoved her hands into her pockets, walking back inside to clear a few things up. The Brigadier had already disappeared, presumably to take charge of his squadron.

A piece of paper brushed against her fingers and she pulled it out, frowning. She couldn't remember putting anything into her pocket. She unfolded the paper to find a phone number and a brief message in a messy, yet somehow neat scrawl, written in deep blue ink.

_Just in case._

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><p><em><strong>AN - Aw man, I'm all sad to be leaving you. Now would be as good a time as ever to leave me a review and let me know what you thought of it, as a whole, or whatever. I don't mind. Just a word or two would be lovely.**_

_**I can't quite describe the egomaniac that seems to have gone wild in my brain after the completely overwhelming response that I've had from you guys. I know I've said it already, probably many times, but I can't seem to get over it. I am incredibly humbled and I'm not really sure how to thank you, except for dishing out fez-points, allowing the last few feeble waves of the pitchfork, and free fish custard to anyone who wants it. THANK YOU SO MUCH. I can't really say it enough. It's made me more happy than I can quite describe - honestly, every time I got an email saying that someone had reviewed, or sent me a message, or whatever, I was just that little bit happier. And now I'm a LOT happy.**_

**_Although I have a few new ideas that are developing nicely, you probably won't hear from me for a while because I'm leaving school on May 13th, and then I have exams, solid, until June 10th. But after that, there's a lovely long summer ahead of me (11 weeks, ah ye!) and I'll have nothing to do except write and go mental with ideas. _**

**_Thank you, once again. I honestly can't say it enough. You're all just brilliant, and don't let anyone tell you any different._**

**_Until then, I hope you all enjoy life, and that world crisis is averted, and, just for once, everyone could just smile and get along, just for a little while. Have a wonderful lead up to summer, the very best of luck if you have Awful and Terrifying Exams like me, and Aren't You Lucky if you don't. Now get out there in the sunshine, or the rain, or the snow, or the whatever - but for the love of marmite, make it awesome._**

**:E**


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